Help a Dream
by NuqueerWarhead
Summary: I always dreamed of being a huntress when I grew up, but that dream was crushed last year when I woke up paralyzed by a brain tumor. For a year my life was nothing but painful surgeries, painful rehab, and anger-but today I met Commander Shepard. Based on Armax Arena's charity reaper challenge. Features Shep, Liara, and Samara being awesome role models for a sad little girl.


The limousine comes to a stop – this is it, whatever it is. I look over at Mother, who looks like she's about to explode with excitement.

"This is it," she confirms.

I see stores brightly lit in blue, orange, green, purple, white. Crowds upon crowds of people: humans, asari, turians, salarians, elcor, krogan. But I don't see what the big surprise is.

"Ready to go?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, still confused.

The limousine opens up, the roof peeling back, and –

Armax Arsenal Arena!

I scream with excitement, "Is Commander Shepard playing?" I repeat it, louder. "Is Commander Shepard playing?"

Mother nods. "She is."

I'm going to see Commander Shepard in the arena live! I blurt out a stream of 'thank you, thank you, thank you's and 'imgonnaseeshepard, imgonnaseeshepard, imgonnaseeshepard's.

"Let me get your wheelchair," says Mother, but the limousine driver already has it for me. Mother picks me up and helps me in.

I'm going. To see. Commander Shepard. Live. I scream again, "This is so cool!"

* * *

The arena is packed with spectators. Some of them are talking about competing, some of them are talking about Commander Shepard's previous matches. We head past a security guard and take a special elevator up to an area labeled 'VIP Balcony.' Some comfy chairs, a mini-bar, a vid screen, a VI console, and a terrific view of the entire arena.

The VI, a glowing orange turian female, pops up and speaks to me. "Hello, Lati. I hear you're a fan of Commander Shepard."

I giggle. How many people are in on this?

"From this console you can review information on the stage, the combatants, weapons, and enemies. The vid screen above you…" It blinks on and off. "Will provide a closer view of the action. Please help yourself to complimentary beverages. The next match will begin shortly."

I can't help but look at Mother and smile, before I turn my attention back to the VI. "I want to know more about Commander Shepard."

The console projects a few paragraphs of biographic information, and a 3D model of her in her armor, with her face concealed by her helmet, resting the butt of a massive, black rifle against her hip. Several pieces of equipment are highlighted.

Shepard, Jane. Lt. Commander, Human Systems Alliance Navy. Council Spectre. It says a little about her early life growing up on Earth, how she became a Spectre, how she led human forces to victory during the Battle of the Citadel and something called the Skyllian Blitz.

It's clearly a touch interface, but I can't move my arms so well. It should respond to voice commands too.

"I want to know more about her armor."

It shows me a description of the armor – 'Aldrin Labs' Onyx X-N7 Modular Personal Armor,' it says – all the special modifications made to it, the VI interfaces built into the helmet, and a little about the manufacturer.

I take a quick look at her cloaking device, her omni-tool, and her rifle – I don't really understand much of it – before I move on to her teammates.

T'Soni, Liara. Doctor of Xeno… Xeno-an-thro-pology. That's studying aliens, I think – her armor looks more like a lab coat. And Private Contractor, that's like a mercenary or something, for the Human Systems Alliance Navy. She grew up in Armali, studied prothean technologies, joined the Alliance Navy, resigned, spent some time as an information broker in Nos Astra, rejoined the Alliance Navy. It looks like she's done a lot in her life, and she looks barely a hundred. Could I do all that by the time I'm her age?

Well… I used to think I could, but now…

The other teammate is a justicar. It gives her name, Samara, and the rest of her personal information is withheld – it's not like you can just ask a justicar where she grew up. That would be really disrespectful. Her armor is beautiful, and she wears a lot of jewelry that looks older than my mother.

I ask for more information on the stage. It's called Prime Evil, and it's a dark jungle setting full of stone ruins. I've seen some extranet footage of Commander Shepard's matches before, and I can tell that this stage looks less like a stage and more like a real warzone than some of the other stages she's played on.

An announcer echoes across the building. "Ladies and gentlemen! It's combat night in the Armax Arsenal Arena!"

Applause erupts as Commander Shepard and her team enter the arena on my side.

"Commander Shepard would like to dedicate this match to the Help a Dream Foundation."

Mother leaps to her feet and cheers. Shepard and her team take a good, long look at their surroundings until…

Commander Shepard waves at me!

I can't help myself. "She waved at me! Commander Shepard waved at me!"

The commander's teammates take notice of where she's looking and wave as well. She and T'Soni both salute, and the justicar bows. Every other asari in the building returns it.

The announcer counts down from five, and the match begins.

The vid screen gives me a good close-up view of some of the enemies. I see a fatheaded batarian thing, with five glowing eyes, a cannon fused to its right arm, and these big sacs of brown flesh bulging out of its back like giant tumors.

There's a giant, gray… thing, bigger than even an elcor, walking on tiny, mechanical bird legs that somehow support its wide, armored torso and thick arms, one of which ends in a giant metal pincer claw. Curved bones stick out of its back as if its rib cage was turned inside out. It has half a turian head held onto its shoulders by a thin, metal spine.

Beside it is a turian that looks like… like it had its armor torn apart, its skin carved off, and then had its armor glued back on with half the pieces missing. Its face clamp things are there but its jaw is gone, it has two extra fins, and its head _explodes into little, bloody ribbons Goddess what was that?!_

The scoreboard registers one kill, starting the kill streak timer. What even happened?

The headless body topples over, and another turian thing steps over it, rifle ready. There's a loud gunshot and it, too, dies by head explosion. I think that's Commander Shepard's sniper rifle.

"Kill streak!"

The next shot sprays a batarian's face and all its tumors against the back wall. "Three!"

Samara throws a biotic attack at the giant. T'Soni does the same. The giant flinches, then… explodes? It's like a biotic… explosion. I've never seen that.

Shepard reloads her rifle, launches an incineration tech from her omni-tool, and fires her next shot all in one fluid motion. The giant rears up, and flails around with its claw as it falls over dead. "Four!"

"Five!"

Another giant appears and almost immediately Shepard breaks its neck with single shot to the head, killing it. "Six!"

The kill streak timer could count all the way down in the time it takes Shepard to reload, but her teammates keep it steady with another biotic explosion. A pair of batarians are hurled clear across the arena. "Sev-Eight!"

The VI console next to me is displaying information on the enemies alongside models. Current target: marauder – brute – cannibal. It switches between them too quickly for me catch more than the names.

"Maximum kill streak!"

In one round, Commander Shepard scores higher than most competitors do in three.

Round two adds husks, human skeletons with blackened skin stretched over them, like rehydrated mummies stuffed with reaper tubes and blue lights. And there are ravagers, weird spiders that walk upright on four legs, that have heavy cannons strapped to their heads and poisonous egg sacs hanging everywhere off their bodies.

Though the rushing husks threaten to force Shepard and her team out of cover and into the line of fire, that three shot one explosion rhythm keeps the enemies dead, the score high, and the crowd cheering.

The final round begins with a horrible, high-pitched shriek. A pair of tall, unnaturally thin, mutated asari with dagger-like claws and long, twisted horns piercing out from under their crests… the banshees. Just the way they… walk, deliberately slow, wide, glassy eyes fixed on Shepard, lips stretched back to keep their serial killer smiles permanently visible.

"Mother," I say, my voice cracking, "I don't want to watch anymore."

She takes my hand, which I can feel only a little. "It's just a simulator. There's nothing to be scared of."

"I don't want to watch anymore," I repeat. I think she can see the tears starting to well up in my eyes.

"Are you sure? Commander Shepard will be okay, and she went to a lot of trouble to do this for you."

One of the banshees falls to her knees and screams as she disintegrates.

I don't… I don't know…

"I'm sorry," says Mother gently. "If it's scary you don't have to watch. Don't worry, Commander Shepard will understand."

A banshee shrieks and unleashes a powerful biotic nova, knocking the commander's team to the ground. It takes T'Soni by the throat, lifts her two meters off the ground. T'Soni kicks, struggles, tries to pry its hand open.

Mother takes my wheelchair and –

"No!" I say, much more forcefully than I meant to.

The banshee raises its other claw, ready to strike, flinches as fire and biotics explode around it, and collapses as a rifle round bores completely through its brain. T'Soni takes a hard fall, but her teammates are quick to rally around her.

Even though Shepard and her team breeze through the rest of the match – they even break the scoreboard – I don't feel the same enthusiasm for it.

* * *

Commander Shepard walks in, still in her armor, her face faintly red from exertion, her side swept hair sweaty and messed up by the helmet she's holding at her side. She's tall, strong, intimidating even, and so very beautiful. Justicar Samara enters next; she is very striking – red armor, gold jewelry, sky blue skin and eyes, full, dark lips, and sharp jaw. She has a powerful beauty to her that lives up to all the stories and paintings. It's not hard to picture her with a damsel in distress in one hand and a rope in the other, swinging over… a pit, full of her enemies, waving their swords in the air, one of them yelling, 'Curse you, Justicar!' or whatever. T'Soni follows and, now that I see her up close, she looks tougher than I first thought. She's surprisingly tall and muscular, and her 'lab coat' has a lot of armor on it. But the freckled markings on her soft face give her a kind, friendly look.

"Hey," says Shepard, in a light tone, not quite having caught her breath. "You're Lati?"

Though I want to scream with excitement, I can't let Commander Shepard think I'm a weirdo or something – I need to play it cool. "Yes."

She smiles. "I'm Commander Shepard. Pleased to meet you."

"We're so very delighted and thankful that you're here," says Mother, shaking the commander's hand with both of hers. "I didn't know you were bringing your companions as well."

"You must be her mother," says Samara.

"Yes. Manava T'Khanna." She bows. I do too

"Samara, of the Justicar Order."

"We're honored," says Mother.

"No," says Samara, "the honor is mine."

What?

"Pardon?" says Mother, as surprised as I am.

"To be a justicar is to combat injustice." She looks over at me briefly, then back at Mother. "You and I fight differently, but the universe will always remember what you do for your daughter."

I don't get it exactly. By injustice she means… my illness?

It's a while before Mother finds the words for 'thank you.'

"Well," says Shepard. "Before we sit down I'd like to give you a gift, Lati." She sets her helmet on my lap, but then, probably realizing I can't lift it, holds it up for me to see.

"Wow." It's covered in the gold ink of signatures: Jane Shepard, Liara T'Soni, Justicar Samara, Garrus Vakarian, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy nar Rayyah, Ashley Williams, Urdnot Wrex, and dozens of others across the entire thing.

She points out and describes every one of them, the crewmen, the engineers, the doctor, the pilot, the ones who fought the collectors, the ones who saved the Citadel from Saren. She's on a first name basis, not just with a justicar and an information broker, but also a fellow Spectre, a quarian admiral, and the leader of the krogan. Almost every living person who's served on the Normandy signed it, she says.

I tell her it's a beautiful gift and thank her. But what does she mean, 'every living person?' Have many of them been killed?

Everyone sits, and they tell me all their most damsel-saving-est, rope-swinging-est adventures. Stopping a biotic terrorist group and saving every last hostage. Talking to a rachni queen. Going on a suicide mission and coming back with everyone alive. Helping a krogan through an initiation ritual and headbutting an obstinate clan leader. Curing the genophage. A giant thresher maw eating a reaper. Making friends with a geth, and negotiating peace. I smile, even laugh, along with them, and I'm disappointed when it ends too soon. They're busy, important people and they can't stay long.

Story time is over, but Commander Shepard says they have time to answer a few questions. I start by asking why she wanted to become a soldier.

"It's not a very good story," she says with a laugh. "I was very poor growing up on Earth, so at first I only joined the military because they gave me food and a place to sleep. But then I started making friends with the other cadets, and their support was something I had never felt before. It felt good, so I stayed on."

That's… certainly not what I expected to hear. "But… then did you still feel that way after you'd fought in a battle?"

"Absolutely. The longer I stayed in the military, the more I realized how much good I could do for people."

It's weird – she's maybe the greatest soldier ever and she didn't even originally want to be a soldier at all? Anyway, I thank her again and pose the question to Dr. T'Soni: how did she get involved with the Alliance military?

"I certainly never expected to be a soldier," she says. "From when I was very little – younger than you – I never wanted to be anything but an archaeologist. I went on pretend expeditions, read books far above my reading level… My first real field work, it didn't even matter than it was a disease-infested jungle, I was happy just to be there. If Saren hadn't tried to capture me, I'd be in a very different place now."

"Aren't you disappointed that you're not doing archaeology anymore?" I ask. "It sounds like it meant a lot to you."

"No." She pauses. "If you asked me which memories made me the happiest, yes, I'd tell you about dig sites, research, and discoveries, but I'd also tell you how proud I am of my work for the Alliance and as an information broker, I'd tell you how I learned to play a human instrument while I was stuck in a sandstorm, I'd tell you about my mother, about Commander Shepard, about the names that are written on that helmet, and the names that aren't." The soft breathiness of her voice makes her sound very thoughtful. "I heard you want to be a huntress when you grow up."

"Yes, but…" I look down at the floor. "I don't think I can anymore."

"I heard that too," she says. "If you can never be a huntress, that's sad, I won't lie. But I want you to remember that you'll find other things that make you happy, and other people who care about you."

Well, yeah, I, I mean I know that – _obviously_ I know that – but that doesn't make it okay. It hurts too much to move my arms and legs – I'm nearly paralyzed – I can't just smile that away!

This isn't the time to think about that. I thank T'Soni and try my best to make it sound sincere.

I turn to Samara. "May I ask why you decided to become a justicar?"

"I had three daughters: Falere was the youngest, Rila the middle, and my eldest…" She glances quickly at… Shepard? "My eldest was named Mirala. When they were not much older than you, all three of them were diagnosed with an incurable genetic condition."

Mother gasps.

"Most who are diagnosed with it do not live more than a few years. Because of that I felt sad and angry, I felt like I had nothing left, I thought that life was pointless and unfair. The Justicar Order gave me structure and a purpose."

"What happened to your daughters?" asks Mother.

"Rila and Falere accepted treatment, even though it meant that they could no longer see their friends or do the things that they enjoyed. Mirala did not. She chose to live only for herself, and left us behind so she could do all the selfish things she had always wanted to do. She was angry about her condition, and with no one to support her that anger made her cruel. She died alone and full of hatred, with no one but me to mourn her." With her elbow on the armrest of her chair, she drops her head into her hand and gathers her thoughts for a moment. "Rila and Falere were forbidden to leave home, travel, or meet new people. For a long time I thought their circumstances were suffocating and miserable… but Rila died with no regrets, with me and her sister at her side. She used her last words to express her love." She fixes her eyes directly on mine. "The reason I'm telling you this is because I want you to learn from it. Falere is alive today only because of the love and support of her family."

Mother and I both thank her. I can't believe a justicar shared all of these personal things about herself.

I know they're all trying to keep my spirits up, but it makes me feel, I don't know, angry. Angry because they can't fix me with words. But maybe they can, because I want to believe them, maybe someday I _will_ believe them. I just… I just need time to figure out what all this means to me.

That's all there's time for. We say our thanks again, and our goodbyes, and Shepard, T'Soni, and Samara leave Mother and me alone on the VIP balcony.

Mother is saying something about how fun it was, but I'm not listening – I'm still thinking about what they said.

Though it makes my arms feel like knives I reach for Commander Shepard's helmet. It hurts, and I can't keep it to myself.

Mother jumps. "You're going to hurt yourself. Let me help you."

"No!" I lift the helmet – I swear it weighs as much as an elcor – my arms shaking violently. I get it over my head, slide it back over my crest.

The visor lights up, but instead of the VIs I'm expecting, Commander Shepard's handwriting, the same as her signature, appears.

"Hope is a shield never broken, only forgotten."


End file.
